


someday we'll get it right

by Jemima_Puddleduck



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Missy hears the drums, horny time gentry, they're so fucking in that vault, timebabies like woah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemima_Puddleduck/pseuds/Jemima_Puddleduck
Summary: The Doctor and Missy finally get a second chance.





	1. Chapter 1

The vault doors came into The Doctor's view and he took in the sight gladly. He'd just escaped after having been lectured by Nardole. Apparently reminding the robot that he was the one being _paid_ to lecture wasn't the correct response. 

"You decent?" He called, knocking sharply on the door.

"Not morally, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking." Came the familiar disinterested drawl from inside.

Missy was lying upside-down on the large sofa, pointed boots waving in the air and petticoats all akimbo. 

"You look bored. Have you run out of books again?" He asked. 

"Mmm."

"I'll get you some tomorrow." He told her, flopping down next to her with a groan of satisfaction at the comfort. "Do you want a game of chess?"

"No thanks." She said distantly, studying her boots with apparent interest.

The Doctor studied her carefully, raking his eyes up and down her elegant form. She was quieter today, subdued. It usually meant trouble.

"Are you alright?" He probed carefully. She finally looked over at him, then back to her laces.

"I'm always alright." 

"Missy." He chastised, a note of warning creeping into his tone.

"Okay fine." She huffed frustratedly. "I haven't been feeling so good. I probably caught it from one of your stinking pets." 

"See, that wasn't so hard." 

"Don't patronise me." She frowned, turning on the sofa to face him.

"Sorry." He said softly. "I didn't mean to. I'll get you something tomorrow to make you feel better." 

"Thank you." She replied,  
cracking a small smile. 

As The Doctor took in her expression, he felt himself glowing. A grin spread itself across his own face as he watched her deep red lips curling at the edges. Her startlingly blue eyes reminded him of chipped ice and of the diamond waterfalls on Midnight.

She turned to look up into his warm, comforting face, blinking her eyelashes up at him softy. He finally lost all restraint, leaning down to kiss her with gentle lips. She returned it with vigour, starved of contact. She held back, kissing with care, yet The Doctor could still sense the desperation in the insistent press of her lips. Her hand curled into his hair, fingers drifting over his scalp. He melted under her ministrations and didn't seem to mind as she tugged him from the sofa and towards the bed. 

They'd ended up there, the last time. The Doctor had woken up in a tangle of limbs and it took him a few full minutes to realise what he'd done. Or rather, _who_ he'd done. The panic had risen in him quickly, but one sleepy glance from a throughly debauched Missy had pulled him straight back in again. 

She started to kiss him with added ferocity, apparently reading his thoughts. Her thoughts trembled at the fringes of his like radio static and he let her in gladly. Everything in her mind was red. It smelt like sex and lust and he was ready to lose himself in it completely. 

The Doctor suddenly felt something gentle and new, fluttering on the edge of her thoughts. He pulled back from the kiss and slowed his hands. He dove in and the thoughts were warm, tickling his mind like a frantic bird in a cage. Then a familiar drumbeat thumped in his ears and his hearts skipped a terrifying beat. He listened intently, his mind clinging to Missy's. They couldn't be back. It wasn't possible. 

He paused, focusing. Something wasn't right. The noise was too soft. Too kind. It was then that he realised, springing back from Missy as if he'd been burnt. 

"What is it?" Missy asked, flashing him a look of confusion, thoughts of intimacy pushed far away. He simply stared through her, unfocused, with a dazed expression on his face.

"I could hear drumming." He said, in shock. 

Missy heard his voice as if it was coming through ten feet of water. Her mind clogged unpleasantly and a bubbling feeling of raw panic began to rise up inside her. 

"Do you think it's coming back?" Her voice wavered pitifully and even the air around her seemed to be trembling. "Will I start to hear them again?"

The Doctor looked down and saw pale white fingers clawing at the sleeve of his shirt. His eyes returned to her face and he took in the terror lacing her expression. 

"They're not yours." He almost whispered, the words heavy and thick in the quivering air. 

Missy faltered, her hand dropping from his sleeve in an instant. "No. Oh Rassilon. No." She stumbled backwards, her usual grace and decorum a distant memory. "You don't mean?"

"You're pregnant, Missy." He said simply.

"Are you sure you heard what you think you heard?" She stuttered, clearly in shock and denial. She squinted at him dubiously, yet the fear was still visible behind her mask. 

"I know what I heard. I've heard it before." He reminded her. She shot him a look with huge, sad eyes.

"Me too." She whispered, her hands drifting towards her stomach.

"Are you alright?" The Doctor probed gently. Missy wobbled on her feet, her limbs unsure and uncooperative. 

"No." She said cautiously, hands firmly around her middle. "Are you?"

"No." The Doctor sighed heavily. "I didn't think I'd have to do this again."

"Neither did I." Missy whispered, stepping slowly towards him again. "I lost them Doctor. I lost them all. I can't do it again." 

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her then, pulling her close and tucking her head under his chin. Dark strands of hair tickled his cheeks as he felt her sighing breaths against his neck. His fingers roved across her back, absently tracking ancient Gallifreyan patterns along her spine. 

"Do you want to hear?" He asked softly, whispering the question into her scalp. 

"I don't know if I can." She confessed, tears welling up in her ocean blue eyes. "I can't lose anyone else."

"We won't lose them. I promise. They'll be safe with us." The Doctor tried to comfort her, neither of them truly believing his words. 

Missy looked up, blinking at him. "Can I listen then?"

Without another word, The Doctor raised his hands up to her temples and pressed their foreheads against each other. A gentle thudding filled their heads and took over their thoughts. Any memory of what had been lost was overruled by the sensation of this being, living, fluttering and oh so _new_ that it drowned out anything before or after those four tiny heartbeats. Missy gasped softly, hands planted on her stomach, and leant further into The Doctor, almost collapsing into his arms. 

"It's beautiful." She whispered breathlessly. "I never thought I'd hear it again."

The Doctor's hands found her own, spreading his large palms across her stomach. "This time." He promised. "We'll get it right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't stop poking at this one so I thought I'd finally extend it. Hope you like it!

Missy didn't look up when he arrived. The heavy doors slid closed behind him with a thump as he surveyed the chaos. Broken shards of patterned china lay scattered haphazardly across the marble floor. Dead flowers wilted at the epicentre, roughly torn from their vase, starved of water. It had been the centrepiece of a small wooden side-table that The Doctor hadn't much cared for, dumped in the vault after the Darillium days. It had been turned into kindling, with jagged chunks strewn over the room. Missy sat at the edge of the destruction, slumped against the end of her bed. Her legs stuck out at awkward angles, strands of hair were beginning to fall and hang limply around her face, buttons had popped open in her distress and her lipstick was wearing off in patches. 

The Doctor simply sighed and made to go to her. She had looked the same in the first few years, when remembering names had become too much to bear. She hadn't let him touch her then, but now she found herself gathered into his strong wiry arms, taking deep, soothing breaths of his scent. She fisted her hands in the fabric of his jacket, and buried her face into his chest without another word. He traced nonsensical Gallifreyan into the small of her back with his index finger, and she let out a shuddering sigh. 

"You're here." She mumbled, relived, into his chest. 

"Of course I'm here." He assured her softly, pulling her closer into his lap. Her limbs were ice cold under his grip and she shuddered at the sudden surge of warmth. 

"I need a new table. I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking. 

"Don't be, it's fine. What happened Missy? Tell me." he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

She looked up at him and her eyes were deep with exhaustion. Grey shadows dulled her bright blue irises. "Do you remember that, when babies first develop a psychic link with their mother, they sometimes hear..." she cut herself off, lip quivering.

The Doctor's face fell. "The heartbeats." 

She nodded curtly, and the childlike fear in her eyes made The Doctor's hearts ache. "I thought I was going mad again. I really thought I was loosing it." 

"Shh Missy." He comforted, fanning out his hand across her back and pressing his fingers gently against her spine. She sighed, finally calming in his embrace. "You won't go mad. I promise."

She broke out of his arms to look at him, taking his hands in hers and rubbing soft, restless fingers repeatedly across his palms. "I don't know if I can do this." She confessed in a whisper. 

"Yes you can." The Doctor told her firmly, squeezing her hands. "We both can. We've done it before."

"That's what I'm afraid of." She murmured, dropping his hands and staring at her boots, not daring to look him in the eye. 

The Doctor paused, unsure how to proceed. His duty of care to her took precedence, however, and he shuffled towards her again over the freezing stone floor. "You're cold Missy, take a bath and warm up." He suggested softy. She nodded her assent and he stood, pulling her gently from the ground and leading her to the bathroom. She perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bath as the water cascaded into the tub. The Doctor carefully pulled the pins out of her unkempt hair, and tumbled from the style to hang loosely around her face. When the bath was full, he stopped the water and left her alone. He sat right outside the door, just in case. 

She asked him to wash her hair, giving him some excuse that it was too thick to wash by herself. They both knew it was a lie, but neither seemed to care; they simply sat and enjoyed the sense of presence as Missy's bath water slowly turned lukewarm around her. She was calmer now, more confident in his company; the self doubt seemed to fade when he was near. His fingers massaged her scalp gently and she hummed happily, almost the languid purr of a lounging cat as he worked his fingers into her roots. She pretended not to notice as he surreptitiously checked for any self-inflicted cuts, knowing he simply wanted the very best for her. He rinsed her hair carefully, separating the strands and gently pulling the knots from her curls before helping her from the quickly cooling bath and into a warm robe. She hugged it around herself with a shiver and gave The Doctor a small smile of gratitude. 

"Thank you." She said simply, and they both knew it wasn't just for the bath. 

She was soon bundled in warm pyjamas, curled up on the bed. She sighed sleepily as The Doctor lay down beside her. He was wearing pyjamas emblazoned with small yellow ducks.

"Previous regeneration?" She inquired through stifled giggles.

"Something like that." He grumbled, his eyebrows unconsciously furrowing into the 'attack' position. 

"So you're staying tonight I gather?" She asked, gaining a nod in response. "Good." 

She sat up and manoeuvred herself under the covers, her back resting against the headboard. The Doctor followed, shuffling up beside her. His wiry arms wrapped around her thin frame and he rested his head on her shoulder, taking in the sweet lavender scent of her hair as it tickled his nose. He looked down at her stomach with a fond smile, imaging the tiny life inside, two hearts fluttering. Missy caught him staring and sighed, sliding her hands restlessly over her middle.

"I wondered how long it would be before you started doing that." She mumbled. "I'm only a few months, I'm not even showing." 

"Doesn't matter. There's still a baby in there." He smiled, cuddling closer and taking her hands gently in his.

"You're very cuddly today." She remarked, staring at his hands and the arm wrapped around her waist.

"I'm sorry, did you not..." he wavered, backing off. 

Missy held him fast, catching his wrists as he tried to pull away. "No, it's fine. I was just surprised, that's all." She looked down again, not meeting his eye. "It's comforting." 

"Oh, okay. Good." He affirmed, entwining himself with her once more until he could feel the rise and fall of her breath. 

"I think this is the happiest I've ever been." She said contentedly, relaxing into his arms and relishing the feeling of his quiet breaths on her neck. 

"Me too." 

Missy placed her hands gently on her stomach, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. The Doctor had never seen her so warm; The Master had always burnt too bright, daring to look directly was painful. But the baby had softened her edges, her usual fire dulled, and The Doctor was starting to think it was something he could get used to. The soft, contented smile would be etched onto his hearts, a far cry from the toothy grins and threatening smirks that had come before.

"What do you think they'll be like?" She mused, closing her eyes.

"They'll be feisty, like you." He told her. She scoffed in response.

"No, that's you. I think that, whatever happens, they'll be kind." 

The Doctor grinned in surprise. "Yes. Book lover?"

"Of course. Musical instrument of choice?" 

"Guitar, obviously." 

"No, piano."

"We'll see about that." He warned with a laugh. "Rebellious?"

"Definitely. We'll have a new renegade time lord." She laughed. "Poor old Rassilon will probably be shocked into a regeneration when he hears. It's his worst fear realised." 

They lay silent for a moment, basking in their joy, before Missy interrupted once more, gripping The Doctor's hand tightly.

"I think I felt something." She whispered, hardly daring to breathe. "I felt a flutter." 

The Doctor broke out into a broad grin and quickly planted his hands over her stomach. His hearts melted as he looked up into her awestruck face and watched as everything changed behind her eyes. Her morals, hopes and fears were turned askew at the tiniest flutter of life inside her. The Doctor suddenly realised that this could be the epiphany that finally turned her to his side. Maybe she could turn good, and it would all be down to the hearts beating beneath his fingers. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. It was only when The Doctor shot her a questioning look that she finally had the courage to say it. 

"I was wondering..." she began, stuttering in her progress. "Could I... go somewhere? Save the day, just like you. Then I can prove I can do it." 

"Why? It's always a risk, and you're doing fine in here." His eyes flickered with worry as he clutched her a little tighter. 

"I want to do it. For the baby. I don't want them shut up in here with a deranged mother, and I don't want them outside without me either." She explained shakily. "Please. At least think about it." 

"Okay. Fine. I'll talk to Bill and Nardole, at least then they can help you." He conceded, his hands still skirting over her protectively.

She sighed dejectedly. "They hate me."

"They don't. They just don't understand you. They'll be fine with you, I promise." 

"So I can try?" She smiled, hopeful. 

"You can try, yes." 

"Thank you." She smiled, eyes brimming with gratitude. 

She seemed desperate to prove herself, and The Doctor knew that she truly had the knowledge to make it a success, yet his mind was consumed with worry as he stared down at Missy resting in his arms. He tried to be the optimist, and shake the doubts weighing down on his shoulders, however difficult that might be, but the thought of loosing everything he loved was enough to leave him with a niggling fear that he couldn't seem to shift. He didn't sleep until she did, opting instead to admire her more innocent form, curled up against him under the covers. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest and her steady, huffing breaths on his neck as she pressed into him. Pressing his forehead to hers, he could hear the baby's heartbeat without waking her. The steady pattern of four somehow seemed more hopeful, less maddened, and he drank it in happily. His hands slid back to her stomach and she sighed in her sleep at his gentle caresses. 

"I'll look after you." He promised in a hushed whisper. "Both of you."


	3. Chapter 3

Dust and ashes danced through the air above as Missy's eyes finally fluttered open. She gasped softly as intense pain seeped and settled into every limb. Simply moving her eyes was effort as she took in the chaos around her from her position in the dirt. She found herself in a desolate wasteland, a far cry from the dense, plush forest she'd collapsed in. However, her first thought upon waking was far from relief; _how did I survive?_

The sky was burnt red, the fire of the explosion still raging overhead. It made her think of the deep orange sky of Gallifrey and she sucked in a shuddering breath, imagined The Doctor lying at her side. _The Doctor._ She jolted, scrabbling to stand. Her joints screamed with the pain, causing her to fall back into the dust with a cry. The injuries gave her pause, she didn't understand it. She was utterly broken, far for regenerated, yet she'd lived through a powerful blast from a laser screwdriver. She tried to scramble into a sitting position to survey her injuries, yet her hands slipped right through the ash. She looked down to see them coated with blood. She was smeared with the sticky, red substance and her purple skirt was blossoming with patches of crimson. She frowned, looking over herself once more. It didn't make sense. There were no open wounds, just bruising. She shouldn't be bleeding. A deep sense of dread burrowed into her, making the air seem  clammy as her chest constricted painfully. Her hands trembled as she stared, acutely aware of some horror that hadn't yet manifested itself. 

The final realisation knocked the air from her lungs and left her gasping. Frantically, she tried to sit, desperately pulling at the hem of her skirt. The tacky blood had already begun to dry between her thighs and her hands shook. 

_no. it couldn't be happening. no._

Missy rolled over into the dirt, and the dust burned her already stinging eyes. Physical pain forgotten, she pounded her balled-up fists into the dirt, again and again, planning to go on grappling into the floor until she passed out. She ignored her hands when her knuckles began to bleed, and she heard the sickening crack when two of her fingers snapped on impact. Whether she was screaming or not, she couldn't tell. Hot, angry tears burned her eyes, falling and congealing in the powered ground beneath her.

Finally, she couldn't go on, and simply flopped back into the dirt like a ragdoll. The injustice of it burned within her, mirroring the flames licking the ceiling. Yet all she could manage were pitiful, gasping sobs. The Doctor flickered through her mind again and the grief washed over her in an excruciating wave. She needed to find him, he needed to know. 

Missy stumbled to her feet, putting her weight on her one good foot, as she dragged herself through the wasteland. 

"Doctor!" She screamed brokenly, her voice sounding more lost than ever before. "Theta!"

The pain shot through her body with every movement as she stumbled along. She tried to mark her way with what little landmarks were left, trying to make out her surroundings through her uncontrollable sobs. She needed someone with her. She needed help, and comfort. She didn't even know if he was alive, and she didn't think she could take it if she lost her baby and her best friend in the same day. Everything she'd ever really wanted, or worked for, had finally been in her grasp, and now it was slipping through her fingers. She didn't know which outcome would be worse when she finally found The Doctor, loosing him, or telling him. 

She didn't have to wait long, as a black figure lay alone in the destruction. The red lining peeked out from under his jacket and Missy tried to run. She fell, screaming and swearing on the ground as her broken leg gave out beneath her. Hot, painful tears pricked at her eyes as she stood again, determined to finally get to him. She came closer, seeing the injuries littering his old face and falling to her knees at his side. 

"Theta." She gasped, blacking out. 

She came to a few times; she saw a flash of silver, the welcoming chill of metal against her skin and a comforting rocking sensation, looking up at the burning sky and then being set down on cold, unforgiving metal. The Tardis console lights buzzed comfortingly overhead, and she sobbed at the idea of home before passing out once more. In one fuzzy moment, she made out The Doctor's unconscious form on the opposite side of the console room. 

"Doctor!" She called out, unable to move. He didn't stir.

"Doctor!" She yelled out, her fuzzy brain sending her into unconsciousness once more. He gasped awake after her eyes fluttered closed, but he could instantly feel her presence in the room. He scanned quickly for her, quickly finding her unkempt and distraught, yet still worryingly unconscious. 

"Missy. Missy. Oh, nonononono." The Doctor gasped out, immediately trying to grapple his way across the floor towards her. He half-stumbled, half-crawled to her side and pulled her broken form towards him, curling her up like a wounded animal in his arms. She was breathing, alive, and he almost sobbed aloud with the relief. There was dust in her curls and bruises on her cheekbones. His hearts pounded as he took in the blood. It was everywhere; made all the more shocking with the stark contrast to her perfect, alabaster skin. He rested his forehead against hers, desperate for comfort. Their thoughts merged painfully, flashes of her memories swam into view. The Master and the hidden knife, and Missy making a move to stand with him. He gasped softly at the revelation and a dull ache began in his hearts at her display of true loyalty, and he knew she was ready to stay with him. He looked over her pained face and sighed with contented sadness at the conformation that for once, they could get it right. He pressed deeper into her mind, watching the events with intensity as he held her. The laser screwdriver came into view and he felt her pain in his chest. He jerked back from her thoughts as if he'd been scalded. He sobbed as he saw the image of her in the mud, lying unceremoniously on the forest floor. He didn't know how she could have possibly survived, but he simply accepted the illogical miracle, clutching her close to his ripped jacket.

A sudden thought came to him, his hearts now pounding like trapped butterflies. _The baby._ He quickly pressed his head against hers again with firm desperation. Their thoughts merged once more and his hope fizzled out like a damp fire as waves of Missy's excruciating grief washed over him, drowning him in it. He saw the realisation, her grief, her balled up fists desperately pounding into the dirt with broken fingers. He collapsed over her in his silent sobs, clutching at her purple coat like a lifeline. Everything he'd wanted had slipped through his fingers and he wanted to scream. He wanted to yell out like Missy, pounding something with his fists until they broke, but the energy seemed to be sapped from him, drawn out as if it had never been, and he simply slumped against her slight frame, clutching fistfuls of her coat in his hands as he whimpered. 

She gasped awake, flailing painfully in his arms and digging her nails into his jacket with the fevered desperation of a madwoman finally going under. 

"Theta." She whispered hoarsely. "Theta." 

She murmured his name like a mantra as she woke and the grief returned once more. She could feel the fuzzy fringes of The Doctor's mind mingling with hers, and the unmistakable despair that radiated from him told her that he'd seen all he needed. She shook uncontrollably in his arms, every limb trembling with distress under his touch. His own hands were unsteady as he wrapped her up against him, and he trembled all the more when she pressed her face into his shoulder and sobbed. 

"I'm sorry." She gasped out softly between tears.

"It isn't your fault." He said simply, wrapping a weak arm around her waist and pulling her close. 

"I'm sorry." She repeated, burying her face further into his torn jacket. "I lost her Theta."

"We both did." He told her softly, afraid to say more for choking on his tears. He gently pulled her head from his chest and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. He tasted dust and blood and it tasted like the war but it was oh so _Missy_ that it made his hearts throb painfully. 

She finally looked up into his old, soft eyes, worn with the pressure of centuries of pain. A prickling sensation tingled at her skin and she caught a momentary golden glow on her friend's face. "You're dying."

"Not if I can help it." He said, trying to smile reassuringly but instead seeming anything but. "I'm not going,"

"You have to." Missy said, her shaking, bloodied hands flying to his jacket and rooting him to the spot. There was a hint of wild desperation in her voice. She couldn't lose him.

"I want to stay the same, for you." He confessed, almost child-like in his admission. Pain prickled across Missy's chest, half from the stifling emotion and the other from her past-self's impeccable aim. The Doctor gripped her tightly as she lay in his lap, gasping softly with each shuddering breath. 

"Theta." She whispered again.

"I'm staying with you." He assured her as she curled into his chest. 

"Thank you." She murmured, before her eyelids drooped and she began to lose consciousness once more, hoping he'd be there when she woke.  
He wasn't.


	4. Chapter 4

She eventually found Missy again, a  few days after the regeneration. It was three in the morning and The Doctor trudged through the park that the Tardis had assured her was the right place. She spotted her from a few hundred meters away, perched uncomfortably on one of the park swings. 

The Doctor kept walking, another few metres and she could make out the tears on Missy's face glistening in the moonlight. Her pace picked up, feeling a strong need to comfort her. Every few paces she covered, new injuries seemed to appear. Her leg was held in an awkward position, her arm draped limply across her lap. There were cuts across her face, a split lip and dust in her hair. The Doctor saw her good hand planted firmly on her stomach and her hearts broke. She walked up to the gate as Missy finally noticed her, breaking her spiral of destructive thoughts. 

"It's you, isn't it?" Missy whispered, looking up at her with tears brimming in her blue eyes. 

"Yes."

"How long has it been for you?" The Doctor probed gently.

"A week, I think. I lost count." She replied, not daring to look at The Doctor. 

"You still have dust in your hair." The Doctor replied simply. "Have you eaten, slept?" 

A single head shake told her all she needed to know. "Have you?"

"No." The Doctor admitted. 

"You're a woman now I see." Missy said, putting on a supportive smile to hide the grief beneath it. The Doctor was a woman, and they couldn't try again.

"I'm sorry. You know I wouldn't have chosen this." 

"I know."

"I was thinking of you, you know." The Doctor admitted sheepishly, her feet shuffling in the gravel. "When it happened." 

"You're blonde, are you sure it wasn't River?" Missy replied almost bitterly. 

"Of course it was you. It's always you." The Doctor sighed. "I was worried about you."

Missy looked at her feet, not wanting to meet her eyes. They seemed wrong. Of course they were The Doctor's, she could recognise them anywhere, but now they seemed too wide, too sad, and it made her hearts ache in a way she couldn't quite understand. 

"Why here?" The Doctor asked quietly, even though part of her didn't want to hear the answer. She knew she had to ask anyway, she'd learnt to deal with the pain, she could face it and work through it, but Missy was vulnerable, volatile, she needed someone with her. She sat heavily on the second swing beside her.

"It's where they bring human children, isn't it?" 

"Not in the middle of the night." The Doctor said, her eyes staring straight through her.

"I wouldn't be able to take it; if there were other children here." She explained quietly, her voice wavering. "But I needed to see it. We could have brought her here Theta. We could have taken her anywhere."

"Her?"

"Yes."

"Okay." The Doctor turned away, unable to look her in the face. She couldn't bear to think that there could have been a little girl with eyes as blue as hers. 

"She would've had dark hair like yours." The Doctor said, her voice wavering dangerously.

"Yes." Missy replied, her voice distant. 

"And her eyes..." The Doctor whispered. 

"I know." 

Missy turned and placed her unbroken hand softy on her friend's cheek. Her fingers came away wet. 

"Theta." She gasped softly, tears brimming in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"It isn't your fault." The Doctor told her. "Remember Missy, it wasn't your fault. Please, remember."

Missy gasped back tears, nodded harshly. The Doctor felt her hands searching for hers, desperate for comfort. Missy's fingers enclosed The Doctor's and squeezed tightly, despite her shattered knuckles. The Doctor felt the rough fabric of the bandages across her palm. 

"You had bigger hands last time. I miss them." Missy sighed, pushing back another sob. They both knew what she really meant. 

"Missy." The Doctor said, trying to manage a warning tone through her tears. "Please tell me you know it isn't your fault."

"Of course it was my fault. I left you for dead and got myself killed, how could it not be my fault?" She blinked at her, eyes welling up. "It always was. Every time. My daughter..."

"Shh. No, Missy. If it's down to anyone, it's me. I let you go out there, pregnant and vulnerable, when I didn't have the first idea of what we were dealing with. I was responsible for you and I let you down." The Doctor said firmly. Missy was still disbelieving, caught in a spiral of self-loathing. Her lip wobbled like a child's, before she burst into silent sobs. The Doctor felt tears tracking down her own face at the image. She'd never seen Missy look so small, so broken. 

"I lost her Theta." She sobbed, heartbroken. "I always lose them."

The Doctor stood up, walking over to pull her into her arms. Missy pressed her head into The Doctor's chest, taking big, gasping breaths as she sobbed. The clothes still smelled like her last regeneration, like home, and the tears fell harder. The Doctor rested her head on Missy's as she enveloped her tighter. The familiar curls tickled her nose, tinged with the dust and memories of floor 507. They breathed each other in deeply, merging into one being through their grief, unable to distinguish whose thoughts were whose. 

"Come with me, in the Tardis." The Doctor said, shuffling in her oversized boots. "I promised you two things, at least then I can keep one of them."

"And what was it?" Missy asked, smiling sadly at the answer she already knew was coming. 

"Every star in the universe." The Doctor proposed, reminding Missy of a better time. Heady evenings and deep red grass, glistening silver leaves and a burnt orange sky. She remembered the hand in hers as the hushed words hung feverishly between them. They tingled with hope and the trembling excitement of 'what if'. Her eyes brimmed at the thought, and the instantaneous nod was all The Doctor needed to see.

"And the other?" Missy probed, hardly daring to ask. The Doctor pulled her to her chest once more in response, murmuring into her hair with a pained voice. 

"That someday, we'll get it right." 

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i'm sorry, i just felt like writing angst please don't kill me - i hope you got some enjoyment out of this anyway - F


End file.
